And The World Was Gone
by Ectoplasmbender
Summary: Tragedy strikes Amity Park and Sam is not there for it. Time keeps moving forward but Sam feels stuck, trapped by her past. When a college assignment gives her the opportunity to confront her past, she jumps on the chance. But years of regret and grief have a way of twisting memories into something ugly. Some ghosts should really just be left alone. [AU]
1. Chapter 1

**Prologue: The Vanishing**

Sam gazed at the towering building looming over her. The style was sleek and modern, glass windows so large that they looked as if they could swallow you whole. Her mother not-so-gently urged her forward, right up to the huge, smooth black doors. She pushed it open and was unsurprised to see that the inside was furnished in the same black, white, and grey as the outside of the house. A few fashionably placed potted plants (likely artificial, her mother wouldn't stand for spilled soil or browning leaves) added the only pop of color.

The gleaming black marble counters and imposing black leather couch looked like they came right out of a magazine. Modern art graced the walls, and abstract light fixtures added even more light to the already blinding natural light from the windows. The whole place was beautiful and impossibly trendy, and Sam hated it. Her parents had always had gaudy tastes- gilded golds, polished knobs, murals, and vintage oak floors- but this was worse. The whole place seemed sterile, lifeless. No sense of personality or history. At least her previous manor looked as if it could have been haunted.

Sam's hand gripped her luggage so tightly that the plastic handle creaked threateningly, as if it might snap at any moment.

"Sammykins…why don't you go settle into your room while your father and I unpack our bags?"

Sam silently glowered, there was nothing to settle into seeing as how they had already paid for an expensive moving company to move their stuff in. Her luggage was just a month's worth of clothes from the trip to Tahiti they had taken while their house was set up for them. Nevertheless, she obediently headed towards her new room.

She walked up a spiral staircase- minimalist glass steps and an elegantly carved iron rail- up to her room on the third floor. Her grandmother would stay on the bottom, so she didn't have to bother with the stairs (though they had an elevator anyways). This floor also featured a state of the art kitchen, wine cellar and bar, two impressive living rooms, a grand formal dining room, and a small indoor gym. Her parents had the entire second floor to themselves, which contained their preposterously large master bedroom, separate bathrooms (each with their own closet larger than most people's bedrooms), her father's private study, and her mother's very own parlor.

The third floor was guest bedrooms, a private movie theater, and Sam's room. A wraparound patio circled the third floor with a heated pool and small bar. While she _was _truthfully excited to swim at her leisure with a view of the New York City skyline, she also dreaded the numerous poolside parties that her parents would be hosting for their snobby friends, which would be taking place near her room. The house may still be egregiously large and extravagant, but it was less spacious and spread-out that her previous home which meant even closer quarters to her family's ridiculous socialite life.

Sam sighed, feeling guilty for being so angry. She knew that this level of luxury was only a distant dream for most people. She _should_ be grateful. But she wasn't. Guilty for being born into money, and guilty for resenting her privilege. She silently vowed that as soon as she was eighteen she'd leave this lifestyle behind. She'd make something of herself, by herself. Everything she'd have would be earned from her own hard work.

She pushed her door open and walked into her new room. The floor was freshly waxed mahogany and her walls were exposed brick- the only room in the whole house that was so. She had insisted it stay despite her mother's protest. It added at least some warmth to the house's sickeningly sleek design. She walked past her record and comic book collection, and flopped onto her violet sheets, ignoring her unpacked bag. Sam missed her old life. She had loved Amity Park, and she had friends there…not many, but they had been true and dear to her. They hadn't cared about her family's money.

Now she'd be stuck going to some stuffy New York private school and her dad would be working more than ever, leaving her alone with her crazy mother way more than she ever had been in Amity. No more cozy suburban life, no more normal public school, and no more Danny and Tucker. Her eyes welled as she thought about them. 'Danny…' she thought miserably. She had never garnered the courage to tell him that she liked him, and it felt cruel to finally say something right before leaving. He and Tucker had started high school without her while she'd been dining in 5-star restaurants and forced into designer shopping sprees with her mother in Tahiti. She had _begged_ to stay that extra month in Amity until the house was ready. But her parents insisted that it was ridiculous to go through the registration process for only one month of Casper High. And she had to admit, it probably would have been harder to get briefly adjusted to life there with Tucker and Danny only to immediately leave anyways. Perhaps it was for the better.

Sniffling, Sam reached for the remote -already placed neatly on her nightstand by the moving company- and flicked on the TV for some distraction. She flipped through the channels, not used to the new stations. Nothing seemed appealing, and she was about to just opt for a movie in the theater room when a snippet of audio caught her attention.

"-tragic explosion this mor-" her eyes widened, and she quickly flipped back to the news station.

"-live footage we will be playing is graphic, so viewers beware." Images of smoke and destroyed buildings filled the screen, clearly taken from a helicopter. The view wasn't great, and Sam's eyes strained to make out the hazy footage. Something seemed familiar…

"As you can see, the entire city is absolutely in shambles right now. Complete chaos, never before seen levels of radiation, a kind that scientists have been struggling to identify for hours."

Sam's hands went cold, how awful…but she began to shake as a horrible thought creeped into the back of her mind. She tried to mentally swat it away, because surely it couldn't be-

"The information we have now is indicating that the likelihood of _any_ survivors within a 10-mile radius of Fentonworks is extremely low…"

'NO.' she thought desperately.

"The radiation exposure likely extends beyond the blast zone, we're hearing now that a quarantine has been issued. Absolutely _no_ first responders are to enter the quarantine zone until more is known about the radia-"

Everything instantly became silent, Sam no longer hearing the anchor's voice as she read the words "Amity Park Disaster: Death Toll Unknown" scroll across the screen. The TV became unfocused in Sam's mind, incomprehensible as the room seem to vanish around her. She dropped the remote, the batteries loudly clattering out on the hardwood floor, sound flooding back. The world tilted on its axis and Sam screamed.

* * *

Author's Note: Hello, welcome to the first story I've published in forever...bear with me as I get used to FFnet's formatting again. I don't have a specific update schedule planned, but I'll try to be consistent. Pls feel free to favorite, follow, review, etc! :)


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 1: The Beginning of the End**

"Aubrey, I'm telling you that this isn't some Travel Channel type of excursion to a haunted- hold on a sec, HEY FUCKER USE YOUR TURN SIGNAL!" Sam slammed her hand on her horn, holding it there for a good five seconds.

"Sam, I swear you are the most aggressive driver I've ever met. Your road rage is gonna give you wrinkles. Also, my voice better be coming out of your Bluetooth, ma'am."

"Yeah, yeah, I got you on Bluetooth. Completely hands free!" Sam chirped back sarcastically.

"Good. As _I_ was saying…I don't think this is healthy, girl. You should write an article over like…Barcelona or something. Or Sevilla! Everyone goes abroad to Spain in college!"

Sam sighed. "I've been to Spain before. Three times actually. And anyways, Spain isn't exactly known for its hauntings."

"HA! I thought you said this WASN'T a ghost story type thing!" Aubrey declared triumphantly.

"It's not, because ghosts aren't real. This is an _academic_ excursion for a report on modern hauntings and urban folklore. For sociology. Not for Ghost Adventures or whatever. And this isn't the only place I'm going. Just…the first one. Of many. Because it's. Purely. Academic." Sam cringed, hoping Aubrey didn't notice how defensive those last couple words sounded.

"That sounded awfully defensive."

Sam groaned.

"I hate you. Why are we roommates again?"

"Because I'm awesome and my crazy compliments your crazy! Sagittarius and Aquarius make awesome partners in crime…"

"Not this again…" Sam murmured absently, as Aubrey began another astrology rant.

Sam had met Aubrey freshman year when they were both living on campus. Sam- majoring in sociology and minoring in journalism- had decided to join the school paper. As a freshman, she was given the lame grunt work like weekly polls, double checking sources, and the dreaded reviews of school theatre productions. It wasn't that any of those tasks were excruciating per se…just that Sam wanted to be reporting on important stuff. Not the favorite type of pizza among sophomores or the local production of Rent.

But it was through the reviews that she met Aubrey, who was a theatre major. And the two of them couldn't have been more different. Sam was admittedly, a bit of homebody while Aubrey was the biggest social butterfly she had ever met. Where Sam abhorred most girly things (as they gave her horrible flashbacks to her mother's…eccentricities) Aubrey was all hot pink nails and strawberry blonde hair. She was _cute_ too, tall and tan with a smattering of adorable freckles and a penchant for florals. Boys openly gawked at her wherever she floated by, and Aubrey had a huge circle of friends. And she always got lead roles. All in all, she was bubbly and popular and totally comfortable with herself.

Meanwhile Sam was a short, pale, antisocial grouch who scared most people off with her dark clothes and perpetual scowl long before she even had a chance to open her mouth. Her…background didn't help either. When people realized who she was, they seemed eager to bolt.

She was also perhaps a bit too serious (or, a "fuddy duddy" as Aubrey would say) compared to her peers, who all seemed to love the partying and sporting side of college. Sam was really just focused on getting her degree, and then going to grad school, and then getting out into the world and making a difference. She felt a sense of urgency that she was alienated by, as her fellow classmates seemed to bask in their youth and newfound freedom at college. It's not that Sam was annoyed by them either, just maybe a bit resentful that she couldn't let herself enjoy it all. She tried to go to parties, but she'd stay stone-cold sober in a corner the whole time while wishing she had the ability to let loose a bit. She'd go to games, but she'd be irritable and bored and couldn't get into it like everyone else. And she'd get a wicked sunburn for her troubles.

But Aubrey, who Sam was supposed to interview, had immediately attacked her with a round of _extremely_ personal questions, and Sam -flustered- didn't even have the time to get offended before Aubrey had grabbed her hand and insisted on getting a coffee together, because Sam's energy "was intriguingly morbid". Who says stuff like that? Sam didn't even remember _agreeing_ but the next day, the two of them were conversing over coffee and when Aubrey declared Sweeney Todd to be her favorite musical and the reason she became vegan, Sam found herself smiling. She had been taken in by her charisma, and for some reason this girl wanted to be friends with her, despite everyone else avoiding her like the plague. The next year they moved off-campus as roommates and the rest was history.

"Ground control to Major Sam? Hello?"

Sam scoffed. "That wasn't even clever."

"Maybe not, but it got your attention. Sam…just tell me that you're gonna be okay?"

"Of course, this has nothing to do with-"

"Cut the shit, Sam." Aubrey snapped. "I know you're like…a tank when it comes to emotions, but you and I know both know that this is extremely personal for you. I just want to know that you're gonna be alright going back to Amity." Her tone was uncharacteristically serious, so Sam knew she meant business. She hated when Aubrey got like this.

"Yes. Honestly. I…I think I _need_ to do this. I've never been back, but the quarantine has been dropped for over a year now and I need to make peace with it. That was my home for fourteen years, you know? And I lost a lot of people there." She added quietly.

"Okay. That's fine, just don't pretend that it doesn't mean anything, Sammy." She was the only one who could get away with calling her that. Sam sighed again, what did she do to deserve such an amazing friend?

"Yeah, yeah. Okay. But I really gotta go, I'm almost there. I promise I'll call you when I get back to my hotel tonight."

"Alright…you better write a kickass report, after putting yourself through all this."

Sam grinned again. "I will. Talk to you later." She ended the call with a click.

Kickass paper indeed…Sam got the feeling that this project was gonna be absolutely life-changing.

* * *

Sam slowly pulled up to the fence ahead of her, gravel crunching beneath her tires. A large sign declared "Site of the Amity Park Disaster: Absolutely No Trespassing. Violators will be prosecuted". Someone had scribbled a sloppy "BEWARE!" in red sharpie underneath. Hilarious.

Sam parked, then bent down and dug around in her backpack before pulling out a slip of paper. "Special Permission from City Council: Access Granted" an official stamp accompanied the print. Sam stared at the yellow paper, thinking that she had probably only been granted access because of her personal connection to the place. Hard to deny access to one of the only surviving former residents. It probably helped that her family name was respected.

Sam was just glad that the neighboring metropolis (which now controlled who came in and out, as Amity was technically a part of the area before it's destruction) hadn't allowed the place to become a ghost hunting hub or tourist trap. That would have been deeply disrespectful to the victims. The state of Illinois actually owned the land now, and if they decided to demolish or rebuild then no one could stop them really. Sam supposed they would eventually, once they had the funds. Her parents had vowed to donate once, but there were no official plans yet. It had been eight years, though the quarantine had only been officially dropped recently. It was inevitable though. For now, it remained and was mostly visited by trespassers and the occasional amateur ghost hunter, eager to grab some (illegally obtained) footage.

Sam placed the paper on her dash, so it was clearly visible through her windshield, and grabbed her bag. She retrieved her camera and hung it around her neck. A quick double check of her battery, her flashlight, her phone, and she was ready to go. She stared at the imposing fence, topped with barbed wire. Right on cue, the sound of scraping metal rang out as the gates slowly opened. She glanced to her left where she noticed a control booth, with an employee inside. She had been so caught up in the moment that his presence had slipped her attention. He stuck his head out the booth's window.

"Hey, once you're in I'm going to head out. Leave by sunset. Hit that red button on the control panel on the other side of gate, and it'll open back up for you, so you can leave. It'll lock behind you. You have a full minute to walk the 20 feet between the button and the gate before it closes, so I better not get any calls that you're stuck inside. Same thing tomorrow when you come back. Understand, ma'am?"

"Yes sir." She called back.

"Repeat what I said."

"Go in, finish by sunset, hit the button and leave. Gate will lock behind me. Come back the next day and repeat."

"Great. We have security cameras throughout the property, so don't do anything stupid. You're pretty lucky to get to roam by yourself, so don't waste that privilege."

"Yes sir. Thank you." She said. He gestured forward to the open gate, and with a deep breath she walked in.

* * *

Grass and weeds sprouted through cracks in the pavement, spreading it wider with each passing year. Abandoned buildings decorated the street, overgrown with plants and covered in graffiti. Most of the windows were broken and the ones that remained were dirty and cloudy with grime. Street signs and light posts sat crooked, sadly leaning in a manner that seemed to defy gravity. All in all, the area was a dump. Sam's heart was heavy, she had seen photos and known what would await. But this was not the Amity Park she grew up in. She could recognize it sure, there was Birch Street to her left where the kindly widow Mrs. Greenburg had lived. There was the home that belonged to the town's mailman; it had once had the most beautiful lawn on the whole block. Now it was all a tangle of unkept grass and shrubs. It was like looking at her memories through a funhouse mirror…familiar enough but uncomfortably different. It set her on edge. With a shiver, she snapped a few photographs and moved on.

She was glad that she was granted two days to explore as driving her car through the town had been forbidden. She understood now, seeing that the roads were heavily damaged and covered in debris. It would have been nice to drive around though, walking would take forever and put her on a rushed schedule. Luckily, the heart of Amity was really what she was interested in. The outer area had been lifted from quarantine status earlier than the rest, but it was mostly fields and roads that connected the small town to the larger metropolis, and she had already driven through it on her way here. The area that contained the neighborhoods, shopping district, and schools had been hit the hardest by the explosion eight years ago. No one had survived there. She snapped some more photos, her heart breaking at the sight of an abandoned shell of a school bus in the middle of the street.

In the months following what came to be known as the Amity Park Disaster, details had been revealed. Fentonworks, the home and lab of the Fenton family had mysteriously blown up one day, unleashing a wave of a never-before-seen radiation. The nature of the energy released had prevented first responders from arriving, and those who had survived the actual blast had been left to die from the radiation. It was absolutely horrible and controversial, but the government had assured everyone that there was nothing to be done. They had even claimed that the abandoned victims hadn't suffered for long, likely succumbing to the radiation in a matter of days. Official statements declared how fortunate it was that this new "ecto-radiation" did not seem to travel as far as other kinds of radiation and hadn't affected a larger region. Bastards.

Sam had had known the Fentons as a kind, if slightly kooky family. Their home had been a second home for her, perhaps even more welcome than her own. Maddie and Jack might have been eccentric ghost hunters, but they had always been so warm to her. Jazz had been a bit of a know-it-all, but she was actually very funny and always a great listener. And Danny…Danny had been the best of them all. Her closest friend, and the first person she had ever had a crush on. Their loss had been devastating. But their reputation was forever soiled in death.

The shock, grief, and outrage at this family for keeping such dangerous equipment underneath their house had ignited the entire country. If they had been mocked before, they were despised now. Their profession had only fueled unfortunate rumors of ghosts in the area too. To this day, people speculated on what they had been building in that lab that could have caused such devastation. Sam was pretty sure she knew, but she had never uttered a word of it to anyone. The secret festered in her heart, along with her confusing feelings about the whole thing. She had loved the Fentons, but she didn't know if even she could forgive them for this.

Sam realized she had started silently crying, and she furiously wiped at the tears. 'Stupid' She thought. 'There's no one around to see you'. She hated crying. She hurried along, almost tripping on a lead pipe buried under the thick grass. It was amazing how little time it took for nature to reclaim land. If this hadn't once been her home, she might have even seen the beauty in that. She steadied herself and kept walking. She had a lot of ground to cover still, there simply wasn't time for her to keep getting choked up. She was here for a purpose, damnit.

She had paused to take some photos of a street sign with graffiti of ghosts on it when she heard a snap behind her. She whirled around, expecting to see some asshole trespasser. No one was behind her. She frowned, an animal perhaps then. She pulled out her journal and jotted a couple notes down with her observations thus far. As she was finishing up, a glass bottle suddenly hurtled past her face, shattering against a brick wall. She yelped and dropped her journal and pencil. "Fuck!" She hissed. This time she spun, searching for any place where someone could have been hiding.

"Hey asshole, where the hell are you?!" Sam yelled. No answer. "This isn't funny, you piece of shit!" The bottle had narrowly avoided her cheek when it sailed past her. Who does something like that? She was seething, but the eerie silence around her slowly cooled her anger into something more resembling dread. Was someone trying to hurt her? A squatter maybe? There had been no noise of approaching or retreating footsteps besides the small snap. She stared at the ground surrounding her- it was covered in glass and gravel and any number of debris that should have alerted her to someone's presence. Her own footsteps had been loudly echoing throughout the abandoned town while she had been walking. Her heart pounded, and she slowly reached for the pocket knife she kept in her boot.

"I have a knife!" She announced. Silence was her only answer. Had she imagined it? She snuck a glance to where the bottle had landed. Yeah, the shards of glass were plainly visible. She decided it was time to move on to a different area. She kept the knife in her hand and quickly made sure her phone was on and still charged in case she needed to make a call fast.

Sam practically jogged away, straying from her original planned path and rounding a couple of corners. There- she was less visible now that she was off the main road. She resumed her leisurely pace, but still remained on edge. She decided to skip past the houses for now, having recorded quite a few. She relaxed as more distance was put between her and where that bottle had been thrown. Nothing else seemed out of the ordinary, so Sam chalked it up to a weird freak accident, wind or maybe it had been resting on a roof near her before falling. 'Objects don't fall like that' said a little voice in her head. 'Shut up' she told it.

As she walked further into the center of Amity, the hazy mist that clung low to the ground thickened. She hoped it didn't get too much worse, or the flashlight might be necessary even though it was still a few hours until sunset. The thought of not being able to see clearly made her hair stand on end. With such a tight schedule she needed to decide which areas to prioritize. She glanced around her to get her bearings, and then smiled. She knew exactly where to go next.

* * *

AN: Aaaand that's the first chapter. I do not know anything about radiation but considering how little the show cares for actual science, I too will follow in those footsteps.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 2: It Didn't Stay Dead

After what had been about twenty minutes of walking, she arrived at the Amity Park Mall. The large cement building was derelict, with large chunks missing from the foundation exposing rebar and mesh. The parking lot still contained rusting cars and tipped over shopping carts, broken and incomplete. Sam carefully picked her way through the rubble, snapping some pictures of the ruins. She was overwhelmed by the size of the space and the state of everything. Would it even be safe to walk into the mall? She supposed that it was probably sturdier than the rotting wood of the houses she had passed. She considered her options for a moment, before deciding to enter through the west parking garage.

The looming shadows of the parking garage were admittedly unnerving, but she wasn't going to be scared off by some darkness. She retrieved her flashlight from her backpack and flicked it on. The light cut through the dark in a blinding beam, revealing a floor thickly coated in dust and grime. She scrunched her nose, pulling her shirt over her mouth and nose to block out the stale air. Her footsteps echoed loudly as she navigated her way through from memory. Once again the nagging thought that she hadn't heard anyone earlier edged its way into her mind. Ignoring reliving _that _she located the door. Next to it was a map of layout of the two-story mall that was still in pretty good condition. She took a picture with her phone in case she got lost and needed it later. She looked at the rust on the handle of the door, and silently wished she had brought gloves. She was _not _interested in getting tetanus. She pulled her sleeves down over her palms and pushed the stubborn door open, using her full weight as leverage. The door pried open with an ugly squeal that boomed around inside. She slipped through and gasped at the sight, swinging her flashlight around.

The expansive inside of the mall was predictably pitch black, and her light seemed woefully weak in comparison. The stores and stalls lining the hall were still open, tattered signs still hung promising bargains and sales that had expired long ago. Sam turned, and her light revealed the abandoned food court to her right. Her chest ached as she involuntarily thought of all the times she had hung out here with Danny and Tucker. She ran her hands over the tables as she walked around, tracing random patterns into the dust. A food stall she didn't recognize was directly in front of her. It still had a faded banner that declared "NOW OPEN! VEGAN AND KOSHER OPTIONS" overhead. She realized it was the vegetarian place she had been so excited to try before her parents had dropped the news of moving away on her. She hadn't had the chance to eat there before they had left; she supposed it had opened shortly afterwards. She wondered if Danny or Tucker had eaten there and thought of her. She turned back, deciding there wasn't anything of interest in the food court anymore.

As she walked towards the main hall, she glanced at her watch. 3:45 pm. The sun would be setting sometime around 6:15pm, and she should give herself an hour to walk back, which meant just an hour to explore the mall. She'd have to be quick, she wanted all day tomorrow to explore Casper High and the surrounding neighborhood. She was still apprehensive about walking the halls of the school where all her classmates had moved on without her; for as much as begged her parents to let her stay, she felt only dread at the thought of returning now. But she knew that this was something that she needed to do.

Sam stopped suddenly and felt herself smile. In front of her was the Hot Topic she used to frequent. She had dragged Danny and Tucker in there dozens of times, and she laughed at the memory of Danny blushing a bright red when he had seen some of the more scandalous items in the back of the store. To make up for his embarrassment, she had gotten him a Dumpty Humpty shirt that she saw him admiring. And despite Tucker's endless teasing of Danny and his futile attempts to hit on the goth cashier, Sam happily offered to buy him a new game at the GameStop next door. How those boys hadn't figured out she was loaded until she told them herself was baffling. The memory turned sour as she recalled having to finally confess her family's wealth when she told her friends that her dad was moving their family to New York.

Though she hadn't planned to alter the area around her at all, Sam gave in and decided to go into the Hot Topic. She wanted to take something small with her, like a lanyard or magnet. Something to reclaim from her childhood. She shoved the rusty doors open, the horrible creak causing her to wince. The stubborn doors refused to open completely, so Sam had to squeeze through the gap. The doors slammed shut behind her as soon as she was through. She swung her flashlight around and searched for something appropriate. Her light revealed rows of outdated merchandise for bands that had since broken up and movies that had come out years ago. There! A button with a zombie from Dead Teacher was sitting on top of a bin, in near-perfect condition. The movie had been the first R-rated movie that she and the boys had ever watched together. She remembered laughing at Tucker's girlish screams and Danny pelting her with popcorn. It was perfect. Feeling only a little guilty, she grabbed the button and pinned it to her backpack.

"That will be $9.99!" A voice rasped.

Sam shrieked, jumping and knocking over a rack. She whirled around, her heart racing. "Who said that?!" She gasped. A pale, translucent hand reached over the counter and grabbed Sam's own. A girl rose from underneath the counter, her skin grey and her eyes glowing red like coals. Her hand was freezing and her grip like steel. Sam registered somewhere in the back of her panicking mind that the girl's nametag read 'Beverly'.

"THIEF! YOU CAN'T STEAL THE MERCHANDISE!" Beverly snarled, her pointed teeth gnashing. Sam screamed and swung her flashlight, smashing the girls face. Or rather, she would have if the flashlight hadn't sailed _through _the girl's face. Nevertheless, the action seemed to shock the creature momentarily and she loosened her hold. Sam yanked her hand free and sprinted, crushing the CDs she had toppled over under her heavy boots. She threw herself against the doors and roughly forced herself through the gap, unconcerned about the nasty bruise that would leave. She tore through the main hall, her footsteps booming and her chest heaving. '_Whatthefuckwhatthefuckwhatthefuck' _she thought hysterically. She heard a horrible wailing behind her and fought her instinct to turn around and look. _Just keep running _she told herself.

She rounded a corner and almost jumped out of her skin at the sight of a mannequin in the display window of a Victoria's Secret. She yelped and took off faster, abandoning any previously planned route. The wailing noise grew softer and then disappeared completely and Sam slowed to a jog. She ducked into a small hall that led to a bathroom and leaned against the wall, catching her breath. Blood pounded in her ears and her heart was on its way to fluttering out of her ribcage. She slid down the wall, letting herself sit on the dingy floor. She looked down at her hands to see they were shaking. Whatever that thing was had left marks on her wrist where it had grabbed her.

"What the fuck was that?" She whispered to herself. She had to get out of this place, research be damned. Unfortunately, she had taken off without any foresight. Sam had excellent memory, but she didn't think she could still navigate this huge mall in the dark from memory alone. "The map!" She gasped "I took a picture of a map". She shrugged her bag off and unzipped it, furiously digging for her phone. She grabbed it and fumbled, hands still trembling. She entered her passcode and went to photos. She clicked on the most recent photo and-

The photo was warped. Her heart sank. The map in the photo was twisted and blurry, like someone had tried editing it poorly. It was completely unreadable. '_What the hell?'_ She thought. The background wall and floor in the photo remained unblemished, still clear and recognizable in the harsh flash of her phone. Only the map was warped. Something had to be toying with her she realized. The bottle that was thrown at her earlier, the girl, and now the one thing that could have helped her. Fear pressed in on the corners of her mind, buzzing like flies. Ghosts. They were real. Which meant that she was not alone when she walked through town, and she wasn't alone now. Maybe she could call for help? She glanced at her phone again to see that she had no signal. She had to get out of here.

She tossed her phone back into her bag as it was functionally useless. She slung the bag over her shoulders and stood up. She considered pulling her boot knife out, but it was likely not very helpful against ghosts either. She brushed her short hair back, gathering as much as she could into a bun, so it was out of her face. Deep breath in, deep breath out. She was going to get out of here, and since nothing seemed to be chasing her at the moment she could quietly look for an exit. She had entered through the west side, but she had gotten turned around while running. Even if she could retrace her steps, she wasn't so sure if it was a good idea to go back in that direction if that _thing _was still looking for her. The mall had four major entrances, one for each cardinal direction. She would just have to find one. That was easy enough, right?

She took a hesitant peek around the corner. She looked left, right, then left again- all clear. She adjusted the straps of her bag and began creeping down the main hall she had just run in from. She believed that there must be an exit in this direction, _away _from that thing that had chased her. If she just kept going she would eventually reach another exit or hall…hopefully. The more pessimistic side of her brain was worrying about hitting a dead end. She shook the thought away and continued on her walk. Her steps were brisk, but still slow enough to not be loud and alert whatever else dwelled in the rotting mall.

Sam walked past hollowed out stores and gutted kiosks, trash still littered across the floor. An empty hot dog stand still had bottles of ketchup and mustard on the counter, as if someone might come at any second to furnish their hot dogs. What a depressing place, she thought. Depressing and eerie. If there truly were more ghosts here, she couldn't imagine where they were hiding. The place looked as if everyone had just…vanished. No sign of life at all. Just empty and quiet. Like the broken bottle earlier, she began to doubt herself. Was that girl real? Or just her mind playing tricks? The marks on her arm said otherwise, but to think that there was _some_ remnant of people left behind…the thought was too much. No, she wouldn't even begin to think about what that might mean. She had other things to worry about, namely getting the hell out of this place.

She came to a stop. In front of her was a giant escalator that went up to the second floor. A huge department store was visible from behind the escalator as well as the- the exit! Her heart leapt, relief flooding her veins. The north exit! She remembered now, this was the side of the store with the department stores and upscale designer boutiques and jewelry stores. She never came here because she detested all of the shopping trips her mom had dragged her on there, but she was so grateful now to be back. She began to run, not caring about whatever noise she made as she made a straight beeline for those wonderful doors. As she neared she almost laughed at the sight of beautiful, natural sunlight pouring in through the dust-covered windows. Sam leapt over a bench, not bothering to go around it. Her lungs heaved as her fingers were just inches away from the door handle and-

Something cold grabbed her by the waist and yanked her back. She fell hard, elbows scrapping against the tile and her head knocking the ground. Her vision swam, her breath caught in her throat.

"YOU WILL NOT LEAVE. NO ONE LEAVES!" A voiced growled behind her. Its iron-strong claws were still locked on her, but she forced herself to twist around and kick it with her military grade steel-toed boot. It soared through the creature just like with the girl before, but she was up on her feet and whirling around before it could recover. She gasped at the sight of the ghost, a middle-aged man with a rusting security badge on. His balding hair looked greenish and sickly, his skin sallow and sunken in. His eyes were not glowing like Beverly's but were instead glazed over and foggy. He screamed, and Sam covered her ears, wincing. She backed up, nearly tripping over her own feet. The ghost had thrown her away from the doors, and now he stood between them and her. She didn't think he was going to let her through.

"You shouldn't have come here, young lady. The mall has been closed for years. I'm going to have to take you into custody." He rasped, foggy eyes looking straight through her. She had no idea what that threat entailed, but she was not about to find out.

"Fuck you." She hissed. "You're just a mall cop." And with those words she sprinted through him and slammed her whole body against the doors. They shuddered but didn't give. Either the hinges were rusted shut or they were locked. "Come. On!" she growled, throwing herself against the doors again. Maybe if she had more time, they would have eventually sprung open. But the security ghost was heading towards her, his body passing through benches and trashcans with no effort. She strained against the door, grinding her teeth when she heard a horrible noise. All throughout the north wing, ghostly figures began shuffling out of the empty stores. Women and children appeared out of thin air, sitting at tables and chattering. The ghosts suddenly in one synchronized move turned their heads towards Sam.

"Shit." She mumbled. She let go of the doors and ran as the ghosts began to rush toward her, led by the now livid security guard. Cold hands grabbed at her, pulling on her bag and tugging her clothes. She yelped as one ghostly hand almost managed to latch itself around her ankle. "HELP!" She screamed, fully aware no one alive was here to save her. She swung her flashlight in an arc, probably looking crazed. The light did seem to make the ghosts recoil a bit, but it was only slowing the grasping, clawing crowd. She was running out of options.

With absolutely no plan except to get out of there in one piece, she darted up the stationary escalator. Thankfully it was empty, but the ghosts continued to follow behind her, and her eyes widened in fright when several began to rise off the ground. '_They can float_?!' Her foot got caught on one of the steps at the top and she painfully fell, her knees hitting the ground with full force. Where was she even going to go up here? She was more trapped on the second floor. She tried to stand, but her knees burned, and she collapsed once again. '_Almost there!'_

A ghost grabbed her, she couldn't see which one. It yanked her up by her backpack, and her body swung like a ragdoll. She tried kicking, but it was of no use.

"Put me down, asshole!" She squirmed, her hands flailing. She tried weakly clawing those horrible cold fingers off her bag, but it was impossible.

"Thieves do not get to leave!" The ghost wailed, and Sam stilled.

"Beverly?" She asked, turning to see that it was in fact the cashier. Great. She was about to be killed by the vengeful ghost of a Hot Topic employee. The thought of dying in such a stupid way fueled a sudden burst of rage inside her. Before she could thrash the stupid ghost, she was roughly plucked away. "Hey, I wasn't done with her yet!" Sam spit out. She was going crazy, she decided. Picking a fight with a homicidal ghost! And now it seemed the ghosts were all fighting to get a piece of her. The mysterious ghost yanked her away, and the hoard of ghosts that had been snapping at her heel began to wail in fury, their teeth sharpening and eyes gleaming. On second thought, she wished that whatever had just snatched her would fly faster away. Better to be torn to pieces by a singular person than a crowd.

She yelped in shock as she was suddenly yanked _through_ the ceiling, her limbs going cold and tingly. She burst through the roof and was instantly doused in the intense red glow of the setting sun. Warmth blanketed her skin, flushing out whatever that horrible freezing feeling was just seconds ago. She was unceremoniously dumped onto the roof of the mall. Her legs collapsed under her, shaking with adrenaline. Her mind was so in shock of being outside again, she didn't even think to look at her captor.

"Sam." She froze. That voice…she slowly turned around and her heart sank in recognition.

"Oh my god." She whispered.

Staring back at her was the ghost of Tucker Foley.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 3: It Will Come Back

"Tucker…" Sam whispered. "You're here!" She stared at him, daring herself to wake up from what was most certainly a dream at this point. Tucker died eight years ago. This couldn't be happening. But here he stood, looking exactly the same age as she had last seen him.

"Sam. You really shouldn't be here." He warned. The red-gold rays of the sun beamed through him, his form ever so slightly translucent. His hazel eyes seemed to gleam unnaturally with that feverish look people get in their eyes when they're sick. She couldn't think of how to respond to him.

"Sam." He repeated sternly. "You're alive, you can't be there." And there it was. He was reminding her that he was in fact dead. Deceased. No longer alive. A ghost.

"You're a ghost." She said, stupidly. The spirit in front of her rolled his eyes, which tugged at her heartstrings. She had missed that snarky look he would give when he felt someone was being dumb.

"Yes, and right now there are hundreds more waiting to tear you apart. Amity Park is not for the living. So, we need to go _right now_ before they kill you and make sure you stay forever."

"Why are you helping?" She blurted out. His eyes seemed to burn brighter.

"Because you were my friend. And the universe gave you the chance to get out of this town before the Fentons blew it to Kingdom Come, and I'm not going to let you waste that chance."

"The Fentons, where are-"

"DO NOT TALK ABOUT THEM!" His eyes flashed dangerously, and his mouth stretched monstrously. The anger lasted for a split second and it was gone. But Sam was rattled.

"Okay." She said weakly. This ghost was not the Tucker Foley she knew, no matter how similar they looked. This one has some kind of rage just barely hidden under the surface and she was not about to see it bubble up again. "So, what do we do know?"

Without answering, he snatched her up and leapt off the roof. She bit her tongue to avoid screaming, expecting to plummet two stories. But instead her stomach dropped, and a weightless feeling took over and soon they were soaring. Sam began to feel awkward in Tucker's arms, she was after all much taller than him now. Could he carry her for that long? She looked down and gulped at the sight of the ground growing more distant.

"Where are you taking me?" She yelled over the wind in her ears. She didn't know if he could hear her, but he answered.

"Back to the entrance. You need to get there before the sun sets completely." She realized suddenly that the gate locked up after then. She had totally forgotten about that detail somewhere in the midst of finding out that ghosts were real.

"I could just hop the fence if we're late." She insisted. It wasn't ideal, but she'd hopped many fences before. He growled lowly and her hairs stood on end.

"No. It doesn't work like that. The ghosts are much stronger at night. They will manifest completely and prevent you from leaving. No one has ever gotten out past dark."

"Could you fly me over?" She asked hesitantly.

"I can't leave Amity, none of the ghosts can. I might even have to drop you off a bit before the gate and you'll have to make a run for it."

"Oh." She said warily. "Awesome."

"You were stupid for coming back." He said. "If you ever step foot back in here I won't be able to help you again."

"Why not?" She demanded. "I want more answers, I want to see you!" She insisted. "I want to see Da-"

He stopped in midair, and suddenly his arms were like iron around her.

"I said don't say that name!"

"Why?!" She repeated stubbornly. How dare he act like this? Just because he was a ghost didn't mean he could be an asshole. But she paled when she saw the fire light up behind his eyes, burning threateningly orange. His teeth shifted, growing longer and she felt claws dig into her skin. Oh, she might have really pushed him too far. She was preparing herself to be attacked by the angry ghost of her former friend when he calmed just as quickly as he had erupted. She was getting tired of these ghostly mood swings.

"They're almost here." He said simply. And with those words, he put on an extra burst of speed. Sam's hair escaped what was left of her bun, and the wind brought tears to her eyes. The sun beamed warmly on her back, but she still shivered from Tucker's icy skin and the wind chill. She heard distant growls and snarls and dared to take a peek.

Behind them were countless ghosts, of all shapes and sizes. Some were bigger and more inhuman than others, but they all looked pissed. And as the sun continued to sink, they were becoming more solid and less translucent. And they were gaining on them fast.

"Uh…Tucker…" She gripped his cold shoulders tightly.

"Almost there." He muttered to himself. He stretched himself further, clearly pushing himself as fast as possible. The horrible sounds of jeers and hisses grew, and Sam knew that they had seconds before an entire hoard of ghosts would be upon them. Tucker's brief flashes of anger had been pretty intimidating, but she knew that even he couldn't fend off the sheer amount that were tailing them. A beam of bright red light whizzed past them, barely missing her cheek and Sam yelped. The smell of ozone filled the air.

"I'm gonna have to let you down so I can slow them down. Do you think you can run the last bit?" He asked. Sam squinted below them, blurred scenes of the outskirts of Amity whizzing past them. They had just left the last of the houses, back in that fielded country area that surrounded the town.

"Yeah." She nodded. "I can do it if you keep them off me."

"Alright." He said simply. And with those words he darted towards the ground. Her hands gripped his shoulders tighter, the icy cold of his skin seeping into her fingers. "Here we go."

He dove towards earth, so close that Sam could swear they were going to crash into soil and become a stain. But miraculously, Tucker managed to swoop up at the last second. She was then unceremoniously dumped onto solid ground.

"Run." Tucker ordered. And with that one word, her friend that she hadn't seen in nearly a decade left her to go meet the cloud of malicious ghosts in the sky. Sam took a deep breath and against her deepest desires to make Tucker come back and answer all her questions, she began to sprint. Her ribs and knees throbbed from the beatings she had taken throughout the hellish day, and a thin but steady stream of blood trickled down from her scalp into her left eye. She wiped it away and kept running, sweat pouring down her back and mixing with the blood and grime. Her legs burned and her lungs heaved, but she was going to make it. She had to.

The dirt road and weeds under her feet gave little resistance, but she still felt like she was running through sand. That horrible nightmarish feeling of running as fast as you can, but still moving at a snail's pace as something horrible approached you…Behind her she could hear inhuman noises. She could swear that phantom hands reached out towards her, stretching and trying to drag her back into the carcass of Amity. Flashes of reds and greens and blues lit up the sky. The sun was merely a sliver on the horizon at this point. '_Please._" She thought. '_Just a little farther…_'

And then there it was! The gate she entered through, that glorious mass of iron bars and hinges! She was going to make it. She pushed herself faster with one final burst of strength. Her muscles might tear, and her lungs might give the second she was safe, but she knew that she would make it. Dirt and pebbles kicked up underneath the onslaught of her boots. The panel with that bright, blood red button stood out in the growing dimness of dusk. Her fingers stretched, and she slammed it full force. A loud alarm went off and the gates began to open, torturously slow. A great scream emanated, metal on metal. Just a few more feet.

A freezing hand tugged at her shoulder, spinning her around. A shadowy creature stood before her, grinning with gleaming canines and empty sockets for eyes. Its great clawed hands raked across Sam, tearing gashes through her raised arm. If she had reacted seconds late, the hand would have slashed across her face. The ghastly shadow-creature was yanked back, and Sam peered up to see Tucker, now ghoulish and inhuman.

"GO!" He bellowed, his voice split into two- his normal, real voice and that of a monster, octaves lower and gravelly. She nodded, her eyes wide. Sam ran out through the gates and it snapped shut just seconds after she ran through. She collapsed on the other side, and the world became instantly shrouded in silence. The howls of the ghosts disappeared. She stared through the bars of the gates expecting to see Tucker or those other murderous ghosts. Nothing. She turned and ran back towards her car, not looking back once.

* * *

"Oh my god." Sam panted. Her hands clutched her steering wheel so tight that her knuckles turned white, drained of blood. She stared at herself, wide-eyed in her rear-view mirror. Her face stared back at her, pale and pinched. Blood had dried in her hair and smeared across her cheeks. Her clothes were tattered, and her hair looked as if it had been attacked by birds. She trembled, in pain but still tense as a spring. She was out of Amity Park, but her body seemed to not know it.

The sun was long gone, night having completely replaced it. Light rain was starting to pelt the car. Clouds swirled overhead, and the wind echoed through the trees. She could tell that a full-on storm was not far from approaching. The steering wheel remained stubbornly still in her hands. Where would she go? What would she do? Sam didn't think that she had fully processed what all she experienced today, but it was beginning to dawn on her. Ghosts were real. Amity Park was infested with them. Her long-lost friend Tucker was a hollow shell of who he'd been when he was alive. Now he was twisted, wrong. And for some reason he seemed to despise the Fentons now. She supposed the ghosts must be aware that it was the Fentons and their inventions that set off the events that led to all this. Everything was so wrong.

Sam's eyes burned with unshed tears. She had no one to talk to. No one would believe her, much less understand. Everything she had left behind had become so twisted and rotten. It was worse than knowing that none of those people she had grown up with were coming back. Somewhere in that horrible haunted town Danny and his parents were hiding, warped beyond recognition. She couldn't even imagine the beautiful and kind Maddie sneering at her like those other ghosts had. Or the gentle giant Jack Fenton being anything but loving and warm. And sweet Danny…

Her thoughts trailed off and she thumbed the pin she had stolen. That stupid thing had survived the journey back. But she felt grateful for its presence now. A solid reminder that everything had really happened. And if she never stepped foot into Amity again, she at least had a tangible piece of it that remained unblemished. If she never came back…a horrible realization dawned on her. She still wanted to return. She _needed _answers desperately. She had started this godforsaken project for closure, but her old scars had just been ripped open and she was bleeding. She knew then that nothing was going to be able to stop her from returning.

She would be more prepared this time, now that she knew what ugly truth lay behind those gates. She would get to the bottom of this. She was going to find out what happened to her town if it were the last thing she ever did. Tucker had said that the ghosts got stronger at night. She figured that this made sense; Beverly had appeared within a couple hours of sunset. If she came early in the morning and left before late afternoon could turn into early evening…she could do this. Sam didn't doubt that Tucker would be very angry if he caught her there again, just as he said. But that wasn't going to stop her.

She shifted her car into drive and pulled out of the grassy parking lot she had been frozen in for over an hour. She began to drive down the long dirt road that had originally brought her here. The moon glowed, fragmented through the trees and dulled by the increasingly heavy rain. The dirt road was beginning to churn and turn to mud. Sam figured she would hurry back to her hotel and grab her things. She wasn't planning on staying in those soft linen sheets tonight.

She sped down the road, probably too fast and too recklessly for the weather conditions. The drive here had only been about half an hour from her hotel, but time stretched uncomfortably. Urgency buzzed through her bones and she pressed her foot to the gas more. Rain began to pound against her windshield unbearably loud now. Every now and then a car would veer down the road opposite of her, their lights flashing into her car. One honked at her because her brights were on. She ignored them and pressed on.

She made a turn onto a real road, gravel and dirt becoming asphalt. The exit to her hotel loomed in front of her and she sped across lanes to turn into it. If there were any cops out here, she was really risking it. Minutes passed, and they felt like hours. And then her hotel finally appeared, lit against the dark and rain. She whipped into the parking lot and parked hastily. She was soaked in the few seconds it took to jog from the car to the doors. It wasn't that late yet, and so several people filled the lobby area. They eyed her bloodied and dirty appearance with suspicion. She ignored them and ran to the stairwell, deciding that the elevator was too slow. She hurried up the steps, hissing in pain as the movement tugged at the cuts and bruises littering her knees.

She shoved the stairwell door open and broke into a full run towards her room. She fumbled with the keycard in her stiff fingers and it took a few tries to get the lock to light up green and unlock. She pushed the door open and rushed inside, immediately shoving whatever stuff she could find into her bag. She tore her clothes off the hangers and pulled them out of drawers, throwing it all back into her luggage. Usually Sam was very neat when travelling- a trait instilled into her by her mother- but right now she couldn't care less. She might have even left several things. She had after all been planning to stay for a long weekend.

She ran back down the stairs, darting through the lobby with her bag slung over her left shoulder. She tossed it into the car on the passenger's side door and slammed it shut. Sam brushed her wet hair out of her face and grabbed a discarded towel from her back seat, wiping her face as best as she could. Then she dug under her chair and pulled out a thick, dusty Yellow Pages book. She thumbed through it hurriedly in the dim light of her car. Her eyes scanned it eagerly, searching for the name of the only other surviving Amity Park citizen besides herself and her family. She hadn't heard anything from him since she moved, but she hoped that he would remember her and agree to help her. There! She found the number. She grabbed her phone and clumsily dialed the number in, pressing call. The phone rang for an excruciatingly long time. Finally, a weary voice answered, and Sam's heart stopped.

"Who is this?" Sam hesitated. Maybe this was a bad idea. But no- she had to do this.

"Mr. Lancer?" Sam said quietly. "You may not remember me, but this is Sam Manson. I need to talk to you. Can I come see you please?"


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 4: Leave it Behind

Sam pulled into a gravel driveway, her entire body trembling. She had made the two-hour drive in almost just an hour and a half. How she hadn't been pulled over…she had no clue. She glanced at the clock in her dashboard: it was almost ten o'clock. Late to be showing up to someone's house with almost no warning. She felt guilty, but she needed to talk to someone and she couldn't think of anyone else. She had been tempted to call Aubrey, but as much as she loved her friend she didn't think Aubrey would believe her. As it stood, she already had two missed calls from Aubrey, likely trying to check up on her. She would have to call back later.

Sam turned her car off and grabbed her stuff, slinging her bags across each shoulder. She slowly walked to the door of the pleasant looking and modest one story. The yard was trimmed neatly, and the small porch had a couple of rocking chairs. She was sure that the house must be very nice during sunnier hours. Rain was still falling, but it had lessened somewhat. She shivered as she knocked on the door, her hair dripping into her face.

The door opened and there stood a man Sam had never expected to see again- Mr. Lancer. The teacher must have been pushing fifty now, but he looked pretty good all things considered. He had the same goatee as when he taught Sam's eighth grade English class, but now it was streaked with grey.

"Samantha." He said warmly. "Come in, miss Manson." He moved aside and gestured with his left arm. Sam nodded and walked into his entry hall. Her shoes squeaked on his hardwood floors and she felt bad for whatever water and mud she had just tracked in. She turned to him as he shut the door, feeling awkward.

"Do you have somewhere I can put my shoes?" She asked self-consciously.

"You can put them in that cubby right there." He pointed to a shoe organizer next to what must have been the door to the garage.

"Thank you." She set her bags down to untie her boots, and he immediately took them.

"Is it alright if I take these to the guest room for you?" He asked.

"Oh, I can take those- "She began to protest.

"Nonsense, you're my guest. It's no problem." He took off down the hall, leaving her to place her muddied shoes up. She went ahead and pulled her wet socks off too, rolling them up and waiting. He quickly returned with a towel and a blanket for her. She felt guilty for how hospitable he was being, but she was grateful. She was very cold and uncomfortable. She started to towel off her wet hair and he nodded his head to the right.

"Why don't we go sit in the living room? I have a feeling that you have a lot you want to discuss."

"Alright."

She followed him down the hall into a small but comfortable looking living room. The couch was well-worn and there were old newspapers still scattered on the coffee table. Sam sat on the couch as Lancer settled into a faded arm chair and switched a lamp on. He moved what looked like a woman's green knitted jacket out of the way.

"Oh, are you married?" Sam asked, feeling even worse that she was intruding on a stranger's house.

"Yes." Lancer answered with a small smile. "For almost five years now."

"That's fantastic Mr. Lancer."

"Please, we're both adults. You're not my student so you can call me William." He said.

"Alright…William." It felt wrong still, this man would always be Mr. Lancer in her mind. "How did you meet your wife?" She asked.

"Well, we both attended the same grief counseling program. My wife- Arlene- had been married previously, but her husband had passed. He had lung cancer and it was a long, hard battle. We were in the same program for about six months and one day a couple years later I happened to visit the library she worked at with my class. I asked to get coffee with her and catch up and well…It was love at second sight I suppose." He said fondly. Sam smiled, a librarian was a perfect match for Lancer.

"That sounds lovely. You still teach then?"

"Yes…It took me a year and a half before I could again. Losing all my students so suddenly…It was a lot to process." His green eyes looked misty in the dark. Sam's heart ached, she couldn't imagine that kind of pain. She knew he had loved his students and his job dearly.

"Well I'm happy that you're still teaching; You were always my favorite teacher." He gave her a wry smile.

"I've heard that I'm a bit stern." He mused.

"Because you cared. Danny and Tucker would have never admitted it, but they told me that they were excited you were transferring to the high school because they wanted you to be their English teacher again."

"Daniel Fenton and Tucker Foley…they were good kids." He said sadly. "Mr. Foley always had his nose glued to a screen, but he had a sense of humor that was delightful in class conversations. Mr. Fenton was a bright student too, even if he didn't seem to know it himself."

"Yeah." Sam said softly. "He was smarter than he gave himself credit for. Hard to grow up in a family of scientists and prodigies I guess."

They both grew quiet at the mention of the Fenton family. It was obviously a sore subject for both of them.

"Well," Lancer interjected, breaking the silence. "You were always such a fantastic writer. I was sad when I learned that you were moving. I hope you're still pursuing writing in some form?" He prompted.

"Yes, I'm minoring in journalism actually." She said. "I'm a sociology major; I want to focus on non-fiction writing about social issues. That's actually why I'm here; I'm writing a report about Amity and the modern folklore that surrounds it."

"Yes, that sounds very fascinating. You've done a lot of research in town?"

"Well, I actually _visited_ Amity Park today. I was given permission to explore since quarantine has been officially lifted." Lancer grew deathly pale.

"You…went in?"

"Yes, that's why I wanted to talk to you. I- well I saw some things that were strange."

"I'd imagine so." He said simply. Sam raised an eyebrow.

"Have you…Have you been in there?" Lancer hunched forward, his shoulders sagging. He began to rub between his eyes as if a migraine was approaching.

"You shouldn't go back there, Miss Manson. It's not a good idea."

"So you _have _been!" She realized. "But when?! The quarantine was only lifted- "

"I must admit, I trespassed." He answered.

"But…Mr. Lancer, no one knew if it was safe or not yet!"

"Oh, believe me it was a very stupid decision. But I had heard of young people skulking about, taking photos and spray-painting on buildings. A couple people from a nearby community college got into trouble with law enforcement because they posted of video of themselves 'urban exploring'. It had been six or so years, I figured if these kids were stupid enough to go in and they were surviving, I would be alright."

"Oh. Wow. That's kinda badass, Mr. Lancer."

"_William_." He reminded her.

"William. Well, what did you see? And why did you go in?" She asked. He sighed.

"You have to understand that I got so incredibly lucky. By sheer, random chance I had escaped death because I happened to be out of town for a wedding. I've spent years thinking about how I managed to survive the extinction of an entire community because I got lucky. In one day, I lost everything. My home, my students, my friends and peers, everything. And despite it all… I felt guilty. As if I had cheated death, selfishly unharmed when in the blink of an eye all of those children under my care were gone forever." A tear rolled down his cheek, and suddenly he seemed years older.

"I couldn't stop myself. I felt drawn back to Amity Park. I was happily married and teaching again, had endured _years _of therapy, but I still felt as if I belonged there. Just years of a horrible, gnawing guilt because I left, and I wasn't buried with the rest of that town." Sam picked at the stray threads in the blanket covering her lap, deep in thought.

"I understand." She whispered. "I always felt like it was a mistake. I don't feel like I deserved to be the one who survived. There were so many good people in Amity, better than me." She said bitterly. "Why did I get to grow up? My classmates will never get to go to college or get married. It makes me sick that I still can."

"Then you understand now why you can't go back. That city is filled with things that I still have nightmares about, that I've never told anyone about- not even Arlene! That town wants to prey on our guilt, Samantha. Whatever is left behind there…it doesn't want you to leave either."

"What did you see?" She asked, staring up at him with wide eyes. Her hands were shaking again. "Who did you see?"

"I'd rather not say." He said grimly. "I still have days where I'm convinced that I had a psychotic break and none of it was real. But it was. And the truth is that no matter who you saw, you cannot trust your eyes. Every last person in Amity is dead and gone. Leave it at that." He suggested. "You were lucky eight years ago and you're lucky for getting out alive now. I almost didn't myself."

"But I can't just leave it at that! I saw Tucker." She gripped her knees, forcing herself to not cry. Deep breath in, deep breath out. "He said something about Danny." She added. "I have to go back and- "

"No!" Lancer's eyes flashed. "You're a smart girl, Samantha. You have so much to live for. I don't know exactly what you've gone through these past eight years, but I understand completely. Trust me, I do. Leave Amity Park behind you. That guilt will never go away, but you can't let it pull you back into the gaping maw of the past. Leave it behind."

Hot tears hit the back of Sam's hands. She _hated _crying.

"Okay." She promised. "Okay. I won't go."

Lancer sighed, relief clear on his face. His back seemed to straighten a bit more.

"Good, good. I know it's hard but trust me when I say it's for the best." Sam nodded absently, pulling the blanket tighter around her.

"I know. Uh, William?" she asked sheepishly, still not used to his name.

"Yes?" He replied kindly.

"You've been so nice to me already and I hate to ask, but can I crash here tonight? I can sleep on the couch, or even in my car if you don't have the space."

"Nonsense, Samantha." He smiled at her. "You are welcome to take the guest bedroom. Arlene already made the bed earlier when you called, she figured you could use a nice bed to sleep in tonight." Sam's guilt grew, she'd have to thank Arlene in person at some point.

"Thank you so much. I'll be out of your hair early tomorrow morning."

"You're welcome to stay as long as you need to, dear." And with those words, he stood up and patted her shoulder. "I'm going to go to bed myself, but if you need any food just help yourself to the kitchen. I'll see you in the morning."

"Thank you, really. I can't tell you how much it means that you're being so kind."

He nodded and left, leaving the lamp light on for her. Sam left out a breath of air she didn't know she was holding and stood up. She kept the blanket wrapped around her and reached over to turn the lamp off. She shuffled down the hall, looking for the room Lancer had disappeared into earlier with her things. She walked past a bathroom and a door that must have been the master bedroom. At the end of the hall, a room beckoned her with an open door. She walked in and saw her bags set neatly on the ground. The bed was freshly made as Lancer promised, and the entire room smelled pleasantly of lavender. She grabbed a few things from her bag and went back down to the hall where the bathroom was.

She quietly shut the door behind her and turned to see a towel laid out for her as well as a first aid kit. Her eyes welled at the overwhelming kindness she was being shown. She locked the door and turned the shower on and the hot water quickly filled the bathroom with steam. She slipped out of her dirty, torn clothes and stepped into the shower. Immediately she moaned, the hot water washing blood and dirt off of her body and easing her muscles. She let the water run through her hair, removing the grime from the day. She eagerly scrubbed her beat up limbs with soap, hissing at the feeling of her wounds being sanitized. Though she could have stayed in there forever, she wanted to be quick and not keep up the Lancers with the sound of running water.

She hopped out, quickly drying herself off with the towel. She combed her hair with her fingers and brushed her teeth. She studied the first aid kit in front of her before grabbing some bandages and ibuprofen, quickly downing the latter. She gingerly wrapped a particularly nasty cut on her thigh and then placed band-aids on all of the smaller cuts littering her body. She gazed at herself in the mirror, studying the giant bruises across her shoulders and sides. She decided that she couldn't do much about that and put everything back as neatly as possible.

Sam slipped into her pajamas and made her way back to the guest bedroom. She tossed her dirty clothes on top of her bag and crossed over to the bed, where she threw herself face-first onto the mattress. She groaned, the aches from her hellish day quickly forgotten amidst the soft feeling of the bedding. She sighed and rolled over, tucking herself into the thick blankets. Her mind was racing, but she figured she'd get as much rest as possible. She'd need it for tomorrow of course, as she had a long day ahead of her. Lancer's pleading eyes flashed into her mind and Sam turned, rolling onto her bruised sides. "I'm sorry, Mr. Lancer." She whispered to herself. In the dark of the room, shame was beginning to burn inside her. "I'm sorry for lying to you."


End file.
